Stepping Stones
by Salkiethia
Summary: Sequel to TDG: There is no shame in fear, brother. And…Seto? Please, for me, remember – there is no shame in love. #Puzzle, Pride#
1. Question Without Answer

**Warning: **Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).  
**Disclaimer: **YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from _Loveless_ as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.  
**Background: **Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.  
**Dedication: **To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

_**Stepping Stones**_

* * *

----

_**A real secret doesn't exist. Protect with words unable to protect. Tear such things as these apart… Touch them with bare hands… All else then fades and only the truth will reach you.**_

_Dearest brother, you never cease to amaze me. You never cease to impress. Once upon a time I never would have guessed it of you. Once upon a time I never would have questioned you. Maybe it's better this way. I can watch you from afar._

The room was pale and cold. Yuugi didn't seem to notice, but it struck Yami nearly at once. Kaiba was nowhere; he'd vanished nearly the instant the pair had come onto the grounds. It wasn't like him, Yami thought. Not…like this. Although, he would have to admit he was hardly privy to Kaiba's closest thoughts. (Who would _want_ to be?) Perhaps the blue-eyed billionaire had very good reason for not wanting to suffer their presence.

_Like the fact his brother is dead,_ Yami reflected.

"It's perfect!" Yuugi crowed excitedly, launching into an examination of the room at once. "Are we really going to live with Kaiba-kun?"

Yami nodded silently. Really there were few alternatives; he _knew_ Kaiba hadn't needed to offer…so why? _Why?_

It was the 'why' of things that intrigued Yami. Things could be as they were in any fashion they pleased; the only part of their existence that caught his attention was their reason. _Why?_ Why did anything exist, ad _why_ was Kaiba being uncharacteristically generous?

Perhaps this wasn't 'uncharacteristic,' Yami mused. Maybe Kaiba had an ulterior motive; it would stand to reason. The young brunet…was unpredictable in the best of circumstances.

Yami's focus shifted back to Yuugi; the younger male was bouncing on the bed, crooning excitedly. He pouted when Yami stopped him, but the expression melted away rather quickly as the violet-eyed Yuugi found something of interest in the corner.

When Yami investigated, he found it was a spider Yuugi was playing with. Deciding there was worse Yuugi could get into, Yami didn't stop him. Instead, the taller of the two wandered back to the bed and perched on the edge, his head resting tiredly in his hands.

_Why?_ he wondered again. _Why_ did anything happen? _Why_ did bad things destroy lives? Was there a rule somewhere, archived with the gravitational constant and laws of physics, sciences…was there a law that said bad things were meant to devastate not-bad people?

And if so…_why?_

_*~*~*~*_

_Some days, brother, I wonder. You are not happy. You miss me…or rather, you mis my physical form. I'm here, brother. Seto, listen to me. I am here. I will never leave you. Trust me in this: trust me as you have never been able to trust anyone else. I am within you, brother. I _am_ you. Trust in yourself, Seto. Trust in us._

He was out on the front lawn. Yami drew back from the curtains. Kaiba was kneeling in the grass. How long had he been there? What was he thinking? Did his skin burn in the chill or was he numb to the weather, consumed by inner demons? Yami hoped that Kaiba could still feel. How terrible would it be to lose an opponent because of this?

As he watched, Kaiba's hands brushed over the spot. He assumed it was where Mokuba had been killed. Why else would Kaiba be kneeling on the lawn? He certainly wasn't planning for the placement of croquet game pieces! No, the brunet was in mourning.

Even from his window vantage point, Yami could read that much in Kaiba's body language – the slumped shoulders, the lowered head, the questing hand. They all spelled defeat in a manner completely unrelated to pride.

Yami found it ironic in a morbid sense that Jounouchi – so long despised by Kaiba – _had_ finally defeated the brunet, just as he had always said he would. It just happened that the manner of defeat was so much more…permanent.

Death.

What did he know about death? Too much…and too little. People said that to die was to end, as if in the blowing out of a candle. But, he had always wondered, could that spark of life be brought back in a new form? Candles could be relit; could lives – if the metaphor extended that far – be created anew as well? The same, and different. The same…and not the same at all.

Yami's attention returned to the scene before him when Kaiba lurched to his feet, standing for a long moment, his facial features obscured by his bangs. Then, as if he knew Yami was watching, Kaiba's gaze snapped up. Yami shrank back away from the window, unwilling to be discovered. It was a very, very long time before his heart stopped racing and he dared to look out once again. Kaiba had vanished, leaving the empty lawn. Yami sighed softly, and drew the drapes.

"You were watching."

He nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to face Kaiba. Were those…gods, were his cheeks wet from _tears?_

"Why?" the brunet demanded. If indeed he had been weeping, it did not reflect in his voice. Instead, confidence and coldness radiated from each word, and in his very carriage.

Yami shook his head; it was reflexive denial, as of that of a child caught in the act of thieving sweets. And as a child, Kaiba did not believe the denial, either, as Yami had known full well he wouldn't.

But _why…_

A question without a clear-cut answer. Yami glared into Kaiba's eyes, willing himself _not_ to back down because to do so now would mean trouble later. This place needed to be a home (however temporary), and that could not happen if he and Kaiba were constantly at loggerheads. Dominance and boundaries needed to be established. Yami was used to being obeyed. He drew himself up to make the most of his height…but Kaiba had already taken his leave, and Yami was once more alone.

*~*~*~*~*

_Every time I see you, Seto, you look so lost. Brother, why? I am still here. Is it something else, then, that hurts you? Makes you question yourself? There is no shame in fear, brother. And…Seto? Please, for me, remember – there is no shame in love._

The sky was blue. Yami looked back outside. It was grey out there. Cold and grey. He shut the picture book. Why exactly did Kaiba own a library full of _picture_ books?

He was in the library. It reminded him of Yuugi's soul room, in a way. Childish on the inside, but hidden…

Yami shook his head, making fun of himself silently for daring to equate Kaiba with Yuugi. Somewhere, he heard screams, and a name, but he heard things too frequently now to really be bothered. Even the voices began to sound the same after a while. Male and female, in pain or not…they blended together until they were nothing but white noise, of little importance. So very little importance.

A set of footsteps reminded him he'd left Yuugi alone. Perhaps not the best choice. Yami stood, expecting Yuugi to come into the library. The footsteps grew closer, closer. They sounded as if echoing on stone.

And then…they began to fade away. No Yuugi. Yami stood for a while, confused, then he shook his head. Maybe he really _was_ going mad, holed up in the abode of his once-greatest rival. Kaiba hardly seemed to warrant the title as of late. Really, Kaiba hardly seemed to warrant _any_ title. Since that afternoon with the window and the lawn, Yami had not come across the brunet. It was eerily as if he and Yuugi were the only ones living in the Kaiba mansion.

The feeling that he _needed_ Yuugi, needed to find him, to hold him, struck without warning. Yami left the library, blind to any nooks or crannies that may have concealed watchful blue eyes.

He raced up the stairs, through the hall and burst into the room he shared with Yuugi –

To find the violet-eyed male curled up, sleeping.

A name echoed, somewhere in the back of Yami's mind, and a flash of deeply tanned skin against ivory. It was easy to forget. All things were easy to forget with Yuugi.

Yami walked quietly to the bed and stood, watching the smaller male's form shift with every intake of breath. Alive. Alive. Alive.

Why, then, the images of death that assaulted him, burning with broken limbs and the screams of mortally wounded? A warning? Yuugi stirred. Yami smiled. No, not a warning. Just voices. Forgettable. He knelt on the edge of the bed, pulling the unresisting form closer and pressing kisses to Yuugi's forehead.

How lucky he was.

How lucky they both were. They had one another. That was all either needed.

_Brother, have you considered? These two are not what they once were, but neither are you. They reside more in the past while you reach forward. The past is to be found in the present, Seto. You know. You have known. History, and life, repeats itself. _


	2. Wednesday

**Warning: **Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).  
**Disclaimer: **YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from _Loveless_ as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.  
**Background: **Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.  
**Dedication: **To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

_**

* * *

Once I desire something…I cannot undesired it. I cannot even try to resist. I will desire it until I have it. But there is no end. No matter how much I take, I still want.**_

_Brother, there are times when I wonder about you. Times when I worry for you. Days pass when you don't move. Days when you forget to eat, forget to breathe, forget to_ live_. What will it take for you to remember again, Seto? Is there anything I might have done for you? Is there anything anyone _can_ do? Or are you too lost in yourself? _

*~*~*~*~*

It had been a week. Or maybe a month. A month and a week. It was a Wednesday again. That was all that really mattered. Wednesday. They would be red forever.

Maybe it was a month and a half.

But it was Wednesday.

Kaiba stared out the window. It was the same one that Yami had once used to spy on him. Not since then, though. Since then, Kaiba had avoided the lawn. A show of weakness. He could not permit weakness. Not from himself. Not from anyone. Or _for_ anyone.

Mokuba…

_I'm here for you, Seto. Believe me. I'm here. _

Was he going mad? Possibly. There were voices now. Less than voices – feelings. Few things he really _felt_, but a general sense of knowing. Sadness, weighing heavily on him. Was it normal, this level of mourning?

It had been two months, hadn't it? When would the pain go away? Mental anguish was not comfortable. He did not know how to deal with it. But Mokuba –

_Here, brother. I am here. _

He missed Mokuba.

Every so often he wondered what had become of the other two. Yami. Yuugi. They had been swallowed by the mansion, he supposed. After his first, last, only encounter face-to-face with Yami, he hadn't seen either of them except in passing. Yami, mostly.

Yuugi… When he saw the delicate copy, strange emotions stirred within. Rage, fear…jealousy. No reason for any of them, but there all the same, fighting for an escape.

He wanted to hurt. To be the cause of hurt. Because if one vanished, everything else…would be fine.

The voices in his head said so.

But he never really listened. Madness was just another enemy to overcome…or ignore.

Just one more in an ever-growing list.

After all, it had been three months already.

Hadn't it?

*~*~*~*

_There are times when your lack of regard for yourself worries me. You see only the worst in yourself; do you hate me then, brother? I _am_ you now. You promised to take care of me. I will hold you to your word, Seto. Care for me. Keep me safe. Keep yourself whole. We are one. Even death could not pull us apart. _

Quite a bit of time had passed since either Yami or Yuugi had laid eye on Kaiba. The mansion felt deserted. Just the two of them, holed up in their bedroom for the most part. Every so often, Yuugi felt the need to wander through the house. On those rare occasions, Yami accompanied him, keeping close. Always close.

If anything happened to Yuugi…

_I'd be lost. _

It was not the first time the realization had hit. It was not even the strongest time. But today, it felt different. Before it had seemed a given. If Yuugi were to be affected, of _course_ Yami would be as well.

Why then this, now?

_Yuugi is everything. _He had had that thought before. _Love, life, happiness. _Those as well. _My reason for existing. A savior…the Keeper._

Keeper of _what_ exactly? The memories came with only bits and pieces. Nothing remained perfectly coherent, much to Yami's distress. It was like trying to bail water from a boat with a sieve. As quickly as he reached for thought, it trickled away. Through…away.

Eventually, as he always did, he abandoned the mental exercise. Too much work. Besides, Yuugi was awake. He could deal with piecemealed memories later.

Yami sat on the edge of the bed. Yuugi's eyes opened slowly. Violet was not a natural color. Yami leaned forward, kissing the smaller male gently. Yuugi purred softly, his arms reaching around Yami in a possessive hug-like clinging hold. He seemed to be saying "mine" without words.

They didn't need words. The dance of their bodies was enough. A tango, perhaps with a hint of foxtrot…a smidgeon of the Polka…perhaps some Latin moves for flavor. They knew the rhythm, knew the pattern. That was the important thing. To know.

Yuugi whimpered softly. Yami rolled off him, onto the bed, onto his back, allowing the purple-eyed male to clamber on top of him, looking down. A smile lit that angelic face. Yami beamed back.

He read love in that violet gaze. Love he needed so desperately right now.

"When you're ready," Yami murmured, his hands migrating to Yuugi's hips, holding the smaller steady. "When you're ready." Because it _was_ about Yuugi. Primal instincts be damned, he was _not_ going to hurt the one person who loved him.

_Again._

A whispered voice. Past. Madness.

Even Yuugi's hands, skilled and taunting, could not brush away the chill that went down Yami' spine. Yuugi did not relent however, and slowly the shivering gave way to warmth. His body shook for much different reasons.

But even when he cried out at the end, and curled up around his sleeping lover, the voices echoed.

_Hurt him,_ they whispered. _Again._

*~*~*~*~*

_We will all eventually disappear. We will vanish into light…or darkness. Or maybe into an odd mix of the two. Vanish into grey. We will all be gone eventually, Seto. While we're here…let's keep from disappearing entirely. Please. _

A week. He thought he remembered now. It had been a week. Maybe two. Or three.

The library was empty but for the books. He thumbed through them, taking refined pleasure in the edges that ripped at his finger tips. When he set the one book down to reach for another, less lethal picture book, the shelf was empty.

It had not been empty when he had come in. The war books, instruction manuals on bombs and heavy artillery – they had all been on the shelf beside the picture books. He remembered organizing the shelves. Not in accordance with the delusional Dewey, but with _order._ Childhood, young adult, adult.

The eight shelves in the very back were empty. Those were for 'old age.' He hadn't reached that stage yet. And, there was no one to tell him what it was like. Gozaburo had never gotten beyond childhood. And Mokuba…

_I'm here._

Was gone.

_Seto, I'm here._

Vanished.

_I'm _here!

Into twilight.

He ran a finger down the spine of the book in his hand. Hadn't he set it down? And why was the shelf empty? He could recall filling it. It couldn't be empty then. He was seeing –

_Not _seeing…things. But that was okay. The voices told him it was simply to be expected. No big deal. Standard occurrence, and all that shit.

The book in his hand stared up at him. A child's picture book. He set it back on the shelf, next to the book on home-made hand grenades…that wasn't there. It fell over.

He never noticed. There were more important things. Something bright had caught his eye a few rows down. Hidden in young-adult, a magazine with a picture on the cover. He pulled it off the shelf. A young, blond male was grinning at the camera. There was no resemblance. The kid probably lived halfway around the world and had never heard of competitive dueling.

Kaiba frowned.

Wednesdays were red.

Blond…made them that way.

A month ago. A year. Two weeks, yes?

_Seto –_

It clicked, then. A name, a duelist, a duty. Anger and pain blended together. Kaiba grinned at the dueling magazine. The picture of the blond boy on the front wrinkled in his grasp. Kaiba didn't notice. There was something in his hands. He ripped it, dropping the pieces to the floor. By tomorrow, they would have vanished.

The ghosts keeping house did their jobs well.

He began to laugh once he was out of the library's 'quiet zone.' So the ones speaking had been right after all. It was here. The answer.

Kaiba did not have a firm plan in mind. He didn't have a _plan._ Three and eight-sevenths weeks – that was all. Maybe more, maybe…more.

It was Wednesday.

_I hate seeing you like this, brother. Seto, can you feel me? Even if you can't hear me, can you _feel_ me? I hate this, brother. It is painful. I hate pain. I'd pull out my own soul, if it could stop the pain. Except…it's your soul now, isn't it, Seto? And you…would never willingly stop it. Does it comfort you, then, that you live in this agony? Brother, do you begin to long for it? So much a part of who you were – and it can never be your future. No one could hurt you like that again, whether you wanted it or not. You told me once… One who knows pain knows strength. Do you really? Or are you too afraid to admit what pain is? Forgive me, Seto; I love you. _


	3. Explore

**Warning: **Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).  
**Disclaimer: **YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from _Loveless_ as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.  
**Background: **Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.  
**Dedication: **To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

_**

* * *

Do you want me to kill him? Or do you want the truth?**_

_When was the last time you smiled, brother? Really smiled. A smirk doesn't count. Neither does a triumphant, blood-thirsty grin. Tell me, Seto. When was the last time your beautiful face was more than a mask of perfect ice? Can you remember? It has been too long… I've begun to forget._

Internet databases were odd, Kaiba had decided. The rational, mechanical part of his mind had taken control and now controlled every click the mouse made. He was looking for one particular blond duelist. The young man had no name, no identity outside the dog he was, but he had been infamous enough once.

Kaiba sneered at the hits the search pulled up. The first three sites were dedicated to " The Mutt" himself. Perhaps fan-based, though the derogatory titling made Kaiba doubt such a possibility. He scrolled down a bit. More sites, some heaping praise on the blond, other making comments on his deck and dueling strategies. Kaiba visited one out of curiosity.

There hadn't been posts in the forums for some time. The newest one was dated more than a year before the Mutt had finally gone off circuit. The smirk tightened into a grimace. Nothing useful; he'd hoped a rabid, brainless fan might have posted all contact information. (It had happened several times to _him_ before; perhaps the Mutt wasn't good enough for stalkers.) Regretfully, Kaiba moved onto the less-mentally demanding task of initiating a simple census search. The only downside was that somewhere along the line, there would be an inquiry sent to KaibaCorp, asking why a company computer had been recorded digging into nation data files.

Kaiba copied what he needed and closed off the computer system. His eyes darted to the wall clock just as it began to toll the hour. He nodded and stood. He'd spent only a few hours on his project. That was perfectly acceptable. Now, though…

Kaiba picked up the paper he'd scrawled across in his partly-loopy handwriting. A frown creased his face once more.

_You will pay._

His hand tightened slightly. The paper wrinkled in his grip. Kaiba merely grinned.

*~*~*~*~*

_The garden isn't as bright as it once was. I can remember when there used to be roses in it, and carnations…violets. Do you remember, Seto? The beautiful flowers with the sun shining on them. Snow roses in winter. I guess… I guess you never thought much about those. There was a time when I didn't either. But looking back, aren't they the strangest things? Roses aren't meant to bloom in the frost; it's unnatural. And yet…they're beautiful, aren't they? _

A few sharp laughs were all that it took for Yami to find Yuugi. The violet-eyed male was 'hidden' (quite a loose term where Yuugi was concerned) behind a failing bush of green. Yami caught sight of him, but purposefully held off a few moments before actually going to tag him. Yuugi squealed indignantly, then dissolved into peals of laughter.

Yami couldn't help but smile, albeit perhaps a touch more tiredly than in prior days. The nightmares…the dreams, were staring to get to him. He woke unrested repeatedly.

There was never an absolute memory; Yami knew there was fire, and there were screams. Sometimes he fancied there had been someone important he had been fighting. A one-on-one battle for something grand and significant, if the fate of mankind qualified. He knew there was something in memory he could not quite recover. He hated the feeling. It was too much like reliance, understanding that perhaps he needed someone to teach him how to dream…to interpret his dreams.

There had been someone once, who had told him in no uncertain terms that a dream itself was utterly without importance. That meanings came from interpretation. Maybe there was some truth to that.

Yuugi hugged Yami tightly. The taller rand a hand affectionately through the shorter's hair.

"Kaiba-kun hasn't been around," Yuugi observed suddenly, and with a solemnity Yami had almost forgotten the violet-eyed male possessed. Those same eyes met Yami's. "Have you seen Kaiba-kun, Yami?"

To that, Yami shook his head. Yuugi shrugged and went back to his careless frolicking. Yami watched.

He didn't lie to Yuugi often.

But sometimes, he felt it was just the right thing. For both of them.

What bothered him more was not knowing why he felt that way.

*~*~*~*~*

_Sometimes you are utterly naïve. Seto, brother – did you honestly expect it? Twice a fool, and there times more for having gone at all! This is not where you belong._

The run-down house was mostly empty. A few boxes were stacked in the corner, smothered in dust. Cobwebs (though none so dense as in movies) matted together over nooks and crannies that dead bugs had chosen to infest. A peeling mural on one wall proclaimed a message that was only partly legible. Something about love and freedom.

Kaiba scuffed a shoe through the dirt, eyes narrowed in distaste. He could _see_ this dirt. It wasn't invisible or silver like the taint in the mansion. It wasn't permanent. That wasn't the cause of his unhappiness, however.

The absence was.

No one had stayed long enough to leave a clue, to leave a hint as to where the thrice-damned Mutt had hied off to. Whatever sanctuary he had find, Kaiba vowed to discover. His hands balled into fists at his sides. Oh, but how he wished to close those very same hands around the blond's neck and choke the life from him.

What he had done was unforgivable.

_I ask you to forgive._

He had torn everything apart.

_It brought us together._

And it had taken Mokuba from him.

_This is a sin for which I deserve to be punished._

*~*~*~*~*

_Brother, you never _expected_ him to stay, did you? Even dogs know when they have done wrong. Better than people, at times._

The door opened. Kaiba turned, his eyes dark with anger. A stranger entered. The tension slowly eased from the brunet's body. He regarded the strange creature with caution. It was obvious the other male was aware of his presence; the odd, sly glances he kept shooting in Kaiba's direction were proof enough of _that. _

"What are you doing here?" Kaiba demanded stiffly after an extended silence.

Laughter. "I could ask the same," the stranger replied. He was picking his way around the empty room as though in pursuit of some important object. "This isn't exactly _your_ property now, is it?"

Kaiba might have offered a bluff if the male hadn't straightened up and fixed him with a wry smile. "Exactly why are you here? Who did you want dead?"

_Brother –!_

Blue eyes opened wide, then narrowed in suspicion. "What makes you –"

"Think you're looking for a killer?" Innocent, gentle laughter. "Simple. I _am_ one. No one comes calling unless there's a job to be done." He raised an eyebrow and looked around the mostly-empty room. "Not that I can blame him. This side of town positively _reeks_." His grin invited Kaiba to share in the mirth.

Kaiba did not. He merely blinked twice, and said nothing.

"It's all right," the stranger assured him. "Transactions are always clean and name-free." A deliberate pause. "Except for the dead one, of course." Smirk. "But then, I only ask so I can taunt for a few milliseconds…before they die."

If he hadn't had his mind set on destroying the Mutt himself, Kaiba might have said yes. As it was, he considered the risks of hiring or undertaking separately and contrasted the dangers and relative safety of each option. Neither was quite appealing, but the risks of red-handed discovery should he commit the crime himself was astronomically higher than if he hired.

Then again, blackmail risks.

He shook his head. "No."

The stranger shrugged and pattered forward.

Kaiba tensed.

"Relax; here's my card…if you feel like calling again." The demonic smile was back in place.

Incredulous, Kaiba accepted the tiny business card and read the print. The name…the first name sounded familiar –

"'Ryou'?"

The creature laughed. "Only when I'm at my day job. These streets, and the ones in them know the name 'Kura.' Let's keep it that way, shall we, high and mighty?" He snickered. "Don't want to end up like the last owner of this house."

Kaiba offered a terse nod, and left.

He thought he heard arguing behind him as he left. Arguing…in the same voice.

Callously, the brunet dismissed it. Insanity had no place _here._

_Maybe…maybe you haven't grown up quite so much as I had hoped, Seto. I remember the library. You took pride in it once, I remember. The childhood you never had, the adult-hood you thought you had given to me. You had it wrong, then, and I knew, but I never told you. How could I? You were so pleased that I grew beyond what was afforded you. But, Seto, I remember the confusion on your face the day you discovered children's picture books don't have guns and bombs and mathematical equations in them. _


	4. Waking Up

**Warning:** Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).  
**Disclaimer:** YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from Loveless as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.  
**Background:** Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.  
**Dedication:** To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

* * *

_**There are too many things that I don't understand. I'll save him for you. Inside my dream… It was your name I wanted to call.**_

_Seto, do you remember when you used to tell me stories? We always fell asleep together when you did that. Most of you stories were about ancient places. I remember when you told me about the founding of Rome. I wanted to know if the two of us would ever be like Romulus and Remus. You said that perhaps we would build something great, said we had, after all, been raised by a wolf. _

He supposed he should have gone home. _Home_ where there were gardens that mysteriously flowered and never grew weeds. Home, where the library was always empty. Home, where the nearest person was always right across the hall…and invisible.

Wandering feet through. Kaiba wanted to think, and so he walked. Walked until he recognized his surroundings again. Until the big, white-grey face of a building that had _always_ been there stared back at him. Kaiba stood thoughtfully on the museum steps, looking upward, towards the wooden doors. They were closed at present, but it meant little.

He recalled a time before, after all, when closed doors had been an invitation, strung out on a siren's song. How long ago had it been when he had first met Yami here? Time was of no consequence, anymore, he supposed. It was like sand – easily manipulated. The very structure was possible to manipulate. Enough heat could change sand to glass. Enough force could shift time.

Kaiba stepped up the museum's outer stairs, taking them two at a time with ease. The minimal distance steps had not been created with the long-legged in mind, he mused. When he was at the top, he cast a glance behind to look down at the street. If music were to begin playing, he might not have been overly surprised. This was a moment to himself: he had so few of those, it _felt_ like something of extreme importance.

The wood of the door was pleasantly chilled under his hand. He pushed it inward. The door moved. Kaiba cast one last glance back at the street, then stepped into something he had not…quite…expected.

*~*~*~*~*

_"Once upon a time." That was how all the stories began in the story books. "Long ago, and far away." None of them told the stories about victims. None of them were about a child growing up under a tyrant. You never read those books, did you?_

Heat assaulted him once he was through the door. Dimly, he heard it click shut behind him. There was no choice in him. His body began to move in a direction. He felt entranced, but no compulsion to fight.

He was running, slowing to a walk, moving backwards through a hall of stone, carved with hieroglyphics. A voice came to him that he recognized. Something tightened inside. Anger welled up.

He was running forward, his long, sure strides having broken into a more frantic pace. That…_creature!_ Hatred, fear, pain.

He stumbled into an alcove, looking out, blue eyes narrowed. There…a pale creature, held in the arms of one so much…

The two of them could have been twins if the pale, Greek brat had been taller. Seth's heart contracted. He watched in pained despair as his prince pressed moist lips to the brat's forehead, kissing him. To watch their closeness, he couldn't help but be jealous.

And when his prince ran hands up the slave's pale arms, pulling at the tunic… It was more than he could take. Seth melted into the shadows, feeling as the sounds of budding pleasure began to grow.

XXXXX

Kaiba's eyes opened. He wasn't aware he had closed them. Nor could he account for where he was. The Egyptian exhibit…

His hands clenched. An echo of the memory – it had too much clarity to be anything but memory – reached him, and his eyes narrowed. He hated what his mind was doing. It was betraying him in the most aggressive fashion he could have imagined. Allowing for other peoples' memories to infect his waking mind!

Giving him…visions, perhaps, of this place.

Kaiba stretched out a hand to run his fingers over a painting done of Egyptian life. His fingers drew together, smudging across the glass. A fist rested delicately against the thin, protective covering.

"I wouldn't advise hitting that."

He didn't have to turn; he recognized that voice.

"Which one are you here?" Kaiba asked. His voice was weary. He growled softly, turning. Blue eyes took in the image of the white-haired killer. A plain white t-shirt and a ripped pair of jeans decorated the young man. Kaiba's eyes flicked over him, taking in all details.

For his part, the assassin simply watched Kaiba out of chocolate-brown eyes, hands jammed deep into his pockets. Perhaps Kaiba might have had the sense to fear him…if he had been afraid of death. As it stood, the only eventuality Kaiba faced from death was regret.

Unfinished…business/

"What does it matter?" the white-haired male asked. His voice was slightly rougher. Kura, then, Kaiba decided; an accountant would hardly speak so harshly.

He gave no reply, and they stood in silence, Kaiba only vaguely aware how the other moved. He had turned back to the painting, stroking the glass again as if his mere touch might cause the barrier to evaporate. What lurked on the other side?

"Have you changed your mind?"

"I never came to find you."

A fluid shrug greeted him when he turned to glare at Kura. "Did you ever consider _I_ might have been sent hunting _you_?"

He felt as if a shiver should have gone through him. Instead, a cold numbness settled in place. "Who?"

Laughter, and Kaiba flinched when a hand clapped him on the shoulder. "No one; don't think I'd take the commission, even if it did come." A grin lit the creature's face. "You're too…_amusing_."

Kaiba opened his mouth to say something. Kura pressed two fingers to his lips, a mad glitter to brown eyes. "Shhh –"

And was gone.

*~*~*~*~*

_Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess who was locked up in a tower. I'm not a princess, not beautiful, and not locked up in a tower. I guess I'm better off than she is._

The door opened under his touch. Kaiba pushed his way through the entryway. The sheen of the past still hung in the air, even if it wasn't quite visible any longer. The first floor had been disturbed by the arrival of the Moutus. The quiet that had once been so oppressive had been shunted aside, a little, enough to make room for the ball of life that Yami had brought with him when he'd invaded.

Kaiba rested his forehead against his closed hand for a moment before proceeding in silence through the lower portion of the mansion. The silver decay that had coated the place when Mokuba still lived was there…but almost fragmented. Certain rooms held the oppression closer. The rooms he dared not enter were on this floor; ones left over from when he had first begun his training as Gozaburo's heir.

Most of those were in the back.

Footsteps echoed. Kaiba looked up. It was Yami, looking tired, though a small smile was on his face. It vanished when their eyes met. Something twisted with delicate uncertainty within the brunet. Tiny flashes of the vision he had seen – an ancient version of Yami – raced through his mind. Kaiba's mouth opened; whether to accuse or ask, he was not certain. His tongue was spared the difficulty of choosing words, however, when violet eyes peeked out from behind Yami.

That something that had no name which had stirred within Kaiba upon the sight of Yami vanished abruptly, leaving not even a trace to mark its passage.

"Kaiba." Yami's voice was sharp.

He merely nodded in response.

"Where have you been?"

"It's no concern of yours," Kaiba replied tersely.

Yami's eyes narrowed, but Kaiba was not watching him. Instead, his gaze focused on the violet eyes, wide and too-innocent. Could a creature be demonic in innocence?

Yuugi's skin was pale, had always _been_ pale. Even Yami with his fair complexion, was darker than the child-like youth.

A scowl darkened Kaiba's face. Another flash of that peculiar memory-vision invaded his senses, rocked him back on his heels for a moment. Ancient Yami, lips parted, eyes shut tightly. And violet eyes, bright.

*~*~*~*~*

_I understand what it means to be surrounded by lies. I understand what it means to be surrounded by betrayals. But bother, you who search for falsehoods everywhere, do _you_ understand? Or have you reached your own limits?_

"I don't think Kaiba-kun likes us."

Yami was sitting on the bed. Yuugi's head was in his lap, and Yami's fingers threaded through the smaller male's hair over and over. He looked down at his aibou then inquired, "What makes you say that?"

Yuugi sighed softly and rolled over, sitting up. "He doesn't like us," the violet-eyed male said, more forcefully. "I just know he doesn't. He looks at us funny." Yuugi spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but Yami wasn't so sure. He supposed Kaiba wasn't overly fond of them; their presence was connected to Mokuba's death after all, and no man with a heart could easily dismiss something like that. Kaiba had a heart, no matter the image he chose to project.

"He doesn't hate us," Yami said.

Yuugi crawled into his lap, curled up like a slightly over-large puppy. "He hates me," the violet-eyed male whispered. "I can see it."

Yami's arms wrapped around Yuugi and he rocked back and forth, trying to give comfort. Yuugi seemed reassured so Yami let him go, but then the smaller male began speaking of Kaiba and Kaiba's hatred again.

Brief annoyance flickered through Yami, and he felt horrified. _Never_ had he been upset with his aibou before!

"Aibou?" Yami asked softly.

Yuugi's eyes met his.

"Aibou, please let go."

Yuugi was clinging to him. He wanted a little space to think – and Yuugi refused.

"No."

Then twisted it.

"Don't leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," Yami protested, pressing a quick kiss to Yuugi's forehead. "I just…need some space right now, aibou."

Violet eyes darkened. "No!"

A shudder ran through Yami's body. He had to fight the urge to pry Yuugi off of him. "Aibou, _please,"_ he tried to reason, but Yuugi would have none of it. "Get off me!"

Moments later, Yuugi was curled up on the bed, whimpering. Yami was standing all the way across the room, shaking. The sense of needing to be alone redoubled and he pulled the door open. One glance over his shoulder – Yuugi was sitting up, violet eyes brimming with as-of-yet unshed tears. Yami stepped out the door and shut it. His heart nearly broke as Yuugi keened in grief.

Yami couldn't stand the sound; he fled.

*~*~*~*~*

_Have you been jealous before? It's uncomfortable. Your throat contracts, like you're going to cry, and your mind is consumed. It feels like anger and hatred and love all at once. I don't like feeling jealous. This time, brother, I think you might be._

Kaiba sequestered himself in the library. Yami wondered about that. Always the library – was it safer in there, did Kaiba have work to do, or was he more comfortable around books?

A spark from a dream Yami had had a few night prior pulled at him. _Libraries,_ it whispered, were places where people found _answers._

_What answers is Kaiba looking for? _Yami wondered_. _

XXXXX

_"Get back!" he screamed. His mouth was dry, tasted like ash. The sky was red and grey. The sun had been trying to set for hours. Trying…and failing._

_Wailing choruses of agony rose. He sawed at his horse's reins, trying to get the beast to back up. His mount refused, shrieking when it stepped on a bloated corpse that exploded, showering them both with bits of human flesh._

_Silence descended then – not the quiet born of awe or fear, but a true, impossible barrier against sound. He screamed to no avail;' the chorus of the wounded cut off eerily mid-howl._

_Warm blood sprayed over him then, and his body twisted awkwardly as his horse collapsed, jerking, trying to neigh through the hole some had ripped in its windpipe – _

Yami fell out of the hallucination when a hand shook him. His eyes snapped open, focusing on a glaring Kaiba. "Either shut up or go away," the brunet ordered, releasing Yami's shoulder as if burned and retreating back into the library. Yami stared after him, then slowly, and shakily, rose to his feet. His back hurt. He wondered if he'd fallen.

*~*~*~*~*

_Time doesn't mean much to you anymore, does it? You used to be like this before, too. Time meant nothing as long as there was food, water, and I was safe. Does it mean more now? How about now? Seto, can you hear me? You're fading in and out._

Kaiba was sitting on the floor, staring upward at the display. He was in the museum again. Security personnel had walked by earlier, ushering left-over guests out; they hadn't even seen him. Kaiba wasn't sure if he should sneer at their lack of notice or wonder if they had explicit orders to ignore him. He was waiting. Ryou didn't work here, but for the past day or so, Kura had been tailing Kaiba. He was sure of it, and equally certain the white-haired assassin would put in an appearance once he was alone. The easiest place to ensure solitude was the museum after hours. And so he'd come.

The Egyptian exhibit drew him. Not in the manner of compulsion, for Kaiba was loath to admit such a thing could exist, but simply for its own peculiar sort of beauty. The artifacts of a long-dead civilization that had dealt with so many secrets was intriguing, of course. He entertained a certain fascination for the displays depicting the building of the pyramids. However, what really captivated Kaiba, what drew him to this place, was wrapped in his own memories of the strange visions that had been visiting him with increasing frequency and vigor.

They had begun after Mokuba died. Kaiba reasoned they would vanish after he killed Jou. Connections, and once more, he would be fine.

"Now tell me, is this a secret tryst, or am I the jaded lover, come to find proof of unfaithfulness?" As if he possessed the ability to meld and separate from shadows at will, Kura stepped from them, shaking back his hair and grinning.

"Neither," Kaiba answered, refusing to smile in response.

Kura wound closer, pouting. Kaiba stiffened when the assassin's hand cupped his chin. Belatedly, he realized Kura was nearly in his lap. "That's no way to answer a business associate," Kura rebuffed gently. He leaned forward and Kaiba leaned back.

_Don't ask me anything more. It makes me feel choked…like there's a knife to my throat. Don't ask me. Just know. Just know. _


	5. Justice or Revenge

**Warning:** Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).  
**Disclaimer:** YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from Loveless as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.  
**Background:** Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.  
**Dedication:** To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

* * *

**_No matter what happens, you still get sleepy, and you still get hungry, and the sun still rises. Even if it mysteriously doesn't feel real._**

_Waking up is disorienting. There's a flash in the morning, or whenever consciousness attacks where you're entirely paralyzed but _aware. _Hypersensitive. These are the strangest times. Aware, and paralyzed because the mind hasn't fully loosened its hold. What things can be seen? I never can remember. The light of day chases all memory away._

The museum floor was cold. Kaiba's palms rested flat on the stone as he stared at Kura in distaste. The white-haired male seemed quite oblivious to the disturbance he caused, or if he knew, he didn't care.

"Why were you there?" Kaiba spoke, questioned, before he could stop himself. His child's self flinched. Gozaburo had instilled a lawyer's understanding of questions; one only asked a question whose answer was known.

"Where?" Kura stopped leaning forward, but didn't lean back.

Kaiba shook his head. "That old house. Jounou-"

"Jounouchi?" Kura asked, grinning. "He lived there, once upon a time. Then he moved and another guy took his space." The grinning male sat up straighter, giving Kaiba more breathing room. "Filthy bastard didn't pay the rent," was all Kura offered by way of explanation, but his demonic grin translated the rest. Kura had killed the house's second owner.

"But why the interest?" Kura pressed, head tilted to the side. In the right light, he might have looked innocent. In the museum, under the flickering ambiance that could make onyx look pale, Kura only looked sickly, shallow and waxen. Kaiba wondered if _he_ looked the same.

"No reason," Kaiba answered, though a shade too quickly.

The wry smile that lit Kura's face betrayed the fact that he'd noticed. "Y'know," he purred, standing up, "I have a bit of a history with that boy's family."

Startled, Kaiba looked Kura in the eyes. He regretted it almost instantly, but refused to look away. The swirling dark brown eyes were unnerving.

"Oh yes," Kura murmured, breaking the eye contact. "His father was quite the addict…and his _sister –_" A laugh, balanced on the brink of sanity escaped Kura's lips.

_Shizuka?_ A stone seemed to settle in the pit of Kaiba's stomach, twisting. His eyes narrowed. "What about Shizuka?"

XXX

_A young woman. Very young. Barely more than a girl, smiling, with bright blonde hair and a wistful grin. She didn't speak all that often; her voice was high and breathy._

_He had gotten well over a hundred fan letters from her. The message was always the same. He had taken to burning the mail that came in pastel envelopes with the soft purple writing._

_Nothing beyond excess devotion to an idea. For the longest time, he hadn't known she was Jou's sister. And when he finally _did_ know…well, it was a little too late, and nothing changed._

"You remember," Kura teased, stepping forward, only a little and motioning for Kaiba to rise.

"I have no –"

"You _remember."_

"I –"

XXX

_The crowd was roaring happily as he stood on the stage, brandishing his newest project. The weight of the new disk felt comfortable on his arm. He drew five cards from his desk and spread them across the trays, sending the whirring mechanisms into life, recreating the holographic forms of monsters._

_In the crowd, someone screamed and people parted. A young woman was climbing onstage, smiling, with blonde hair that sparkled. Too much glitter that morning. _

_Kaiba stepped forward to escort her off the stage. The screaming crowd grew louder. Hysterical. Kaiba felt the sudden weight of the girl's body, leaning on him._

_Warmth seeped over his hand._

_The girl's body fell to the stage._

_A flash of white vanished in the crowd as Kaiba began to bark orders._

_His hand was bloody._

_For hours, he stared at it in disbelief._

_The pieces never fell in place._

"You killed Shizuka?"

Kura grinned. "Quick aren't you? But no. That was my ex-partner." He shrugged. "Contract was up on _you_ but the girl got in the way. Time came for another shot and the guy paying was dead." Kura's eyes grew thoughtful. "Or he'd chickened out. Some rival company of yours, I suspect."

Kaiba refrained from flinching when Kura smiled. But only just. It was like staring into the past, into Gozaburo's eyes once more, except this time there was nothing resembling sanity. Somehow that was comforting.

"Well, time to go." Kura turned.

Kaiba blinked. "What? No, wait –"

"Awww, how charming," the white-haired killer taunted. "Don't want me to leave? I'll be back. Don't piss yourself over that." And then he was gone.

The museum seemed more oppressive without the too-large presence of Kura's insanity to hold off the silence. Kaiba sighed and made his way up through the mess that littered the collection floor. When he reached the doors, he found them locked.

Kaiba swore he heard laughter, running down the halls.

*~*~*~*~*

_I stayed up late one night. I stayed up until false dawn. The pale sky outside made me think the sun was readying itself to rise. The sky lies, Seto. Maybe you know that. You didn't go to bed that night._

Yami stayed in the library, long after Kaiba had left. The place where Kaiba had touched him, on the shoulder, burned. Yami felt almost afraid to touch it. Something inside had stirred at that contact, but it lingered only on the edges of his consciousness, blocked by something. The feeling, the sense of loss, rippled through his body like contractions, each bringing a sound of pain from his lips.

When he closed his eyes, all he saw was a pair of violet eyes, so achingly familiar that a part of him, long dormant, wanted to push them away. Destroy that connection to the present and reach for the future –

_Madness,_ Yami thought, horror-stricken at the images his mind conjured, of a young male, splayed out. Crying piteously, tears leaking from purple eyes –

XXX

_He smiled. Hesitantly the boy smiled back. He settled on the edge of the bed and reached for the boy, lust boiling in his veins. _

_The child's wide eyes grew even wider, and a hot blush came to his cheeks. The prince drew the boy in close, pulling at the scanty hip wrap; it came off easily. For a moment, the prince studied his prize, one wrist in either hand, looking the trembling child over. Delicate. Lovely. One worth for a prince. He leaned forward, transferring the two wrists to one hand, and pinning those against the bed as his free hand went to undo his own hip wrap._

_The boy's violet eyes turned misty._

_When the hip wrap fell away, the boy began to struggled. He leaned down and kissed the child anyway, his mouth absorbing the protests…and the screams._

Yami wasn't sure what had recalled him to awareness this time. There were hot tears coursing down his face at the thought of _anyone_ hurting Yuugi…that boy in his hallucinations, that _had to be Yuugi. _Their eyes were the same.

_And I hurt him, every time,_ Yami thought, feeling sick. _Why? I'd _never_ hurt Yuugi…._

Then again, he'd have sworn Jou would 'never' kill Mokuba, and that Kaiba would 'never' invite him and Yuugi to live in the mansion. Never didn't quite hold the same power as it once had.

_Why am I seeing these things?_ Yami wondered, dragging himself to his feet and stumbling further into the library. Libraries held answers…so where was the answer to his question?

This stranger in his hallucinations, this man who harmed Yuugi, who rode horses into dying suns, and faced death –

_That's not me,_ Yami though firmly. _No matter what I see…it's all in my head. I'm just…just imagining it._

Because he would _never_ do that. Never hurt Yuugi, or do something as far-fetched as saving human-kind.

Another vision threatened, and Yami pressed his hands over his ears and shut his eyes as if by such insignificant acts, he could prevent the sense from appearing in his mind's eye. Hopeless of course…but he did it anyway, and the feeling of pressure began to raced, and amused tingle left in its wake. Yami was only grateful that it was gone.

"Yami?"

He looked up, vision darkening momentarily from the sharpness of the motion. As the grey sparkles cleared from his sight, Yami focused on Yuugi, wrapped delicately around the door post, peering into the library with his wide, violet eyes. Yami smiled softly and knelt. Yuugi raced towards him and enveloped him in a big hug. Yami hugged him back, smiling.

_You could hurt him, you know,_ a voice suggested. _It would be so easy… A few sharp words and he would run away from you._

Yami's eyes widened, then narrowed. _What am I _thinking –

Soft laughter. _Keep ignoring me. You're getting good at it._

Then it was gone. Yami wondered if he was imagining things. That voice…no. It wasn't who he thought. It couldn't be. Just…just imagination, Yami decided, and left it at that ,nuzzling into Yuugi's hair. His young lover purred back, contentedly, but though Yami had dismissed the possibilities, a seed of discontent rested as of yet in his mind.

_I will never hurt you, Yuugi,_ he vowed. _I will never hurt you. I promise._

*~*~*~*~*

_Promises were made to be broken. I remember that lesson; you gave it to me yourself Nii-sama. I bet you don't remember, though. You can't possibly recall all the times when you said you would tuck me in and I cried myself to sleep instead because you forgot. I won't forget, Seto, but I'm glad you never knew._

The phone was ringing. Kaiba glanced at it annoyed, but picked it up after another two rings, right before it connected to voicemail. "What is it?" he growled.

There was laughter from the other end. "No wonder you have such a nasty reputation."

"Who is this?" Kaiba demanded, but he thought he knew. It had been a little over two weeks since he had last seen the assassin in the museum. Work had absorbed him. He had almost forgotten –

_It's Wednesday._ He would never forget.

_When the time is right, you will._

"Twelve guesses, and the first thirteen don't count," Kura teased. He sounded incredibly smug. "I have a gift for you, if you're still interested in the dog who killed your brother."

Those words hit Kaiba like a bucket full of cold water. He blinked twice, then growled into the telephone. Information traded hands.

When Kaiba hung up, he had mostly forgotten about the work he was supposed to be doing on his spreadsheet. He closed the laptop roughly and shoved it into his back. He had places to be. He had coordinate points, a north star. He had a destination, with justice waiting at the end.

_Brother…is this truly justice? Or is it revenge?_

-

-

-

A/N: I realized about halfway through writing this that I haven't been doing Author's notes since forever ago. That struck me as a bit silly, since Author's Notes clear up a bit (maybe I'll make sense!) and also take up space, so it looks like I've written more. That makes a reader happy. I am brilliant. Just though ya'll might have wanted to know.


	6. Between Fourth and Eighth

**Warning: **Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).  
**Disclaimer: **YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from _Loveless_ as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.  
**Background: **Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.  
**Dedication: **To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

* * *

**_You can be reborn, like a chrysalis concealing a butterfly._**

_Seto, do you remember the summers when we used to go outside every chance we got? I remember. I also remember our last time out. When that last groundskeeper caught us, and started yelling. Those days were stifling. I felt like a caged butterfly. What would you do if a pretty butterfly rested in the palm of your hand? You could use both hands to protect it. Gently. Or you could close you hands into a fist._

A chill settled over Kaiba/ "Does he know you've found him?"

Kura chuckled on the other end of the phone. "Oh, he knows _something_ is following him," the assassin snickered. "Before long, he'll be jumping at ghosts. Amusing, this family. Almost as amusing as _you_ are –"

"Let him go," Kiaba said, cutting Kura off.

"What?"

"I said, 'Let him go,'" Kaiba repeated firmly. "He's not your concern…" The brunet's eyes darkened. "And he's _my_ prize."

The incredulous silence gave way to laughter once more. "Have it your way," Kura crowed. "Fourth and Eight, Kaiba. Happy hunting."

_Click._

Kaiba held the phone, just staring at it, thoughtful. So Kura had found the Mutt. A numbness had settled into Kaiba. He felt neither pleasure nor anger at the discover. They was one simple truth: Jounounchi Katsuya had to die. That was all.

Fourth and Eighth. Two streets…parallel, not intersecting. Kaiba frowned as eh set the phone down. Fourth and Eighth…

"Who was that?"

Kaiba turned. A bright-eyed, childish version of Yami stared up at him. Those eyes were unnatural. "It's none of your concern," he replied tersely.

"But I want to know."

A glare worked its way onto Kaiba's face, and he focused on the young man until Yuugi fled. Only once he was gone did Kaiba blink, and reflect on how strange it was, how unnerving, to stare into violet eyes. They stirred a protective, aggressive nature within. Protective…of someone else. Aggressive because of the anguish such a stare brought.

XXX

_The unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh echoed in his ears as he neared the prince's chambers. With every step Seth took, he questioned himself and the importance of the admission he wanted to make. With every step, he wondered if excesses had driven him too far, finally. Excesses in indulgence of temper, personality, admiration… The young, naïve core longed for contact with the prince. Seth's harder, more weathered exterior understood the futility. He turned the corner, part of him ready to share only Atemu's father's summons, the other part waiting to ask Atemu for something more._

_He froze when the signt of two bodies entwined greeted his eyes. Atemu…_

_In silent denial, Seth stared, watching the small child laying claim to the prince. Any momen, Seth knew Atemu would turn, cast the pale child _away_…_

_A small cry of triumph escaped the boy's lips, followed by a stifled, choked sound. Seth realized _that_ had come from his own lips. Atemu's red eyes, red as the sunset over the Nile, looked up, and guilt stirred there._

_At least, Seth thought, as he turned and fled, he _hoped_ it was gilt._

_He closed his eyes as he ran, and remembered the way the boy's eyes had looked up, soaked with pride and possessive jealousy. Violet eyes._

Kaiba's eyes opened. He couldn't recall closing them, but rationally knew he must have, otherwise he couldn't be opening them.

He had no idea what to make of this most recent, uncalled for recollection. _Why would I want to think about Yami and Yuugi having sex?_ The very image stirred nausea, disgust, anger, jealousy –

Jealousy? Kaiba stopped himself. Jealousy. Why? For god's sake, _why?_ Jealous because Yami had a liability in Yuugi? Little chance. Kaiba had lost someone, had lost _Mokuba_ and that nearly accomplished what Gozaburo had failed to do. It nearly broke him.

_I'm not jealous._ The mere thought smacked of denial. Roughly, Kaiba shoved it to the back of his thoughts. Denial was acceptable. Truths that had not business in his life and unanswerable questions, weren't.

He wasn't jealous.

The door opened. Kaiba startled, then looked to the hallway. Yami came down it, looking extraordinarily preoccupied. He walked past Kaiba without a word. The brunet scowled. Not at Yami, exactly, but because of another flaw in the emotional system. 'Slighted.'

Disgusted with himself, Kaiba retreated to his office-study and locked the door. He settled in for a too-long night of work without sleep. At least if he was exhausted, he wouldn't have to consider the uncomfortable and disconcerting reactions he was having lately. It was easier to be distracted.

*~*~*~*~*

_You've always been taller. I used to think you always would be. I suppose in the conventional sense, now you always will be, since I'm hardly growing anymore. I just wanted to let you know, though, Seto… You might be taller, but this time, I'm the one watching over you. Brother to brother. I won't fail you, Seto. And remember, you never failed me._

"He hates us."

Yami shook his head again. Yuugi lay curled up on the bed, a strange expression on his face. For the past hour or so, the two of them had been discussing – arguing – the pros and cons of remaining in the Kaiba household. Yami sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Yuugi launched into yet another tirade.

The young duelist had never been exceptionally _fond_ of Kaiba, but once upon a time there had been respect there. It was gone now, replaced with over-intense dislike and an odd combination of jealousy-fear.

"Get rid of Kaiba-kun."

And through it all, Yuugi still referred to the brunet in a friendly manner, though it had become clear his intentions were anything but friendly.

Yami stopped pacing and stared at Yuugi. "What? No! Yuugi, don't _say_ things like that."

Yuugi uncurled and sat up, his young, boyish face grim. "Kaiba-kun doesn't want you," he protested. "And he hates me! He gives me these looks, like he wants to kill me… If you leave the house, he will, Yami!"

"Aibou –"

"He _will!_" Yuugi screeched.

Yami felt as though such words should worry him more. He was distressed, but in a detached fashion – more worried over his lack of response than over Yuugi's over-done fear. A headache – they were becoming more common and more powerful as of late – began to throb in his temples.

"Yuugi…" Yami tried to break into the little one's rant, but Yuugi refused to be halted. YMi stayed only long enough for Yuugi to begin repeating accusations before he left.

The room behind the door grew quiet. Yami nearly opened the door again and went back in. Yuugi must be crying. He always cried softly.

_I've gone so cold I can't even feel him._ Yami lurched away from the door, down the hallways and out the mansion's back door into the gardens. Being along wasn't comforting, but the silence wore less on his nerves and his senses. His head didn't hurt as much, even if his conscience did.

Yami found a small corner in the shade and sat there, head resting against the stone wall. The cool dampness did him some good. Or maybe it was the silence that helped. His body was tired.

*~*~*~*~*

_Sometimes silence is best. Sometimes…there just is nothing to say._

The clock chimed. It was eleven. Kaiba closed out of his spreadsheets, and put away his work. Fourth and Eighth. He brought up a map of Domino and studied it, a frown creasing his face.

Fourth and Eighth. The two streets glowed on the screen, both finishing in dead ends. Between them, Sixth lay dull, dormant. Kaiba considered a moment longer, then stood and shut his laptop.

_Brother, don't do this._

There were some things that just _had_ to be finished.

From upstairs, Kaiba heard the tinkling sound of something fragile shattering. He paused briefly, looking upwards, considering whether or not he should investigate. It was the little one's fault; of that he had no doubt. The cold, calculating look in Yuugi's eyes was one of which people should be wary. Such a childish exterior only covered adult flaws, Kaiba had decided.

Whatever had been broken was replaceable. Kaiba could think of nothing of value that was in the house. He had his deck with him. Let the lovers burn the mansion down if they pleased. The damn thing was insured, and all the worthless treasures within as well.

XXX

Yami was shaking, staring at the shattered lamp on the floor. The power cord was still plugged in, and the filament in the cracked light bulb flared on and off. Over. And over. And over.

They had been arguing again.

_It's not my fault!_ Yami wailed internally. His body felt rooted to the spot. _It's not…_ He caught sight of Yuugi, pressed flat against the opposite wall, violet eyes wide and truly frightened. A wash of emotions swept through Yami: fear, lust, love, hate, attraction, disgust. He felt bile rising in his throat and tore his eyes away from Yuugi's cowering, softly whimpering form. The lamp…

_"Yami, we're leaving!"_

_"_No_, aibou."_

_"Yami!" Yuugi's eyes, narrowed into an expression Yami had never seen. "We are _leaving._" A pressure, building between them; a tension twisted enough to pull on the very air, until Yami couldn't breathe._

_"N-no," he choked out._

_"Yes!" Yuugi screamed back._

_Yami tried to protest – _

And now there were here, with a shattered lamp, and two shaking young men, staring from the broken pieces of porcelain to one another and back.

_It's not my fault,_ Yami protested mentally again, but then, whose was it? Yuugi's? The lamp had been on _this_ side of the room, and even if he didn't recall touching it, he must have. _Did I throw that at Yuugi? _Yami wondered.

He felt…ill. A sudden wave of nausea crested and Yami gasped for air, stumbling backwards a pace and fumbling for the door knob. After an exhaustive moment of _nothing –_

There. There it was. He yanked the door open and raced partway down the hall before the nausea overcame him. Yami went crashing to his knees, sobbing even as his body, his traitorous, treacherous body, began to shiver violently, dry-heaving.

_What did I do to deserve this? Yuugi… Yuugi, I'm _sorry! Yuugi wasn't responding. _What choice did I have?_ Yami wondered, gasping, braced on all fours. Something came up. Then a little more.

_I'm sorry…_ Yami thought again, distressed. It became a litany. So often now, he said things a hundred times, and Yuugi never listened. Just sat there, violet eyes…wide and innocent…and brimming with tears. Always tears.

_I'm sorry._

*~*~*~*~*

_You promised me, Seto! You wore, on mom and dad, and you said you'd never, ever do it again! _Why_, Seto? _Why?_ For the love of whatever god you say doesn't exist – Seto! Don't!_

Sixth street was gloomy. Big houses littered one side, hidden by thick rows of trees marching down the lawns, casting shadows from the dim street lights spaced evenly down the road. The other side harbored shoddier buildings, most nearly as large, but much more unkempt, even in this light. The streetlights were all broken on the far side of the street, except for one that flared on, then died…and flared on…and died…and flared…and…

Kaiba stood on the corner for a while, studying the dramatic difference. Sixth marked the change into the lower sections. Second and Fourth…those were _nice_ streets. Eighth was a trash heap. He hadn't bothered to go see what Tenth was like.

Why would he _want_ to expose himself to excessive filth and rancor? Besides, Sixth should be where Jou was, assuming Kura hadn't been lying. Or maybe Sixth was a metaphor. Between Fourth and Eight…where the rich blended with the dirt-poor.

Kaiba watched, blue eyes flickering from one side of the street to the other and back .A dozen times. Two dozen. A hundred. A thousand. And again.

Movement caught his eye, and Kaiba turned slightly, all his anger and rage ready to unleash on –

A cat. A small, grey and white cat that paused part way down the sidewalk, across the street. Its eyes glowed in the light of the street lamp, briefly before it turned its head and continued on its way. A horn honked as the cat vanished into a hedge, and a white car sped around the corner, taking the turn so sharply that it rocked the vehicle onto two wheels.

The car screeched then, and the blazing headlights dimmed slightly as it decelerated quickly enough to leave twin black marks and the smell of burned rubber on the pavement. The window rolled down.

"Ya lookin' fer sommat?" a man's voice called to Kaiba.

The brunet raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"Ye sure?" the man pressed.

Kaiba hesitated for a moment, then stepped out into the street. A few long strides had him at the car window, and he bent so he was nose-to-nose with the driver. The man's scent was rank. Old onions and salami peppered his breath. Kaiba stared him in the eye.

"Jounouchi Katsuya," he said, evenly. "Where is he?"

The stranger barked out a laugh. "So yer _that_ one. Ye look a bit skinnier than ol' Jo' said ye were. Six houses down, bad side." The man pointed.

Kaiba nodded and backed up.

"Have fun, Tinkerbell!" the man roared before the car roared back into life and sped off down the street.

Kaiba guessed Kura must have sent the unasked for informant. Human beings did not suffer such good luck coincidentally.

Grim-faced, the teenage billionaire crossed the street and dutifully went six houses down. The house itself looked like an abused child attempting to sink in on itself. Kaiba tried the front door. It was open.

He walked in.

The house felt empty. After a walk-through of the kitchen that turned up nothing, Kaiba heard shallow breathing. He followed the sound, cautious. Why hadn't he brought a fully-loaded gun? Poetry had beaten out pragmatism. Not again, Kaiba thought grimly.

There were two bullets in the gun. If he discharged both on others, so be it. He'd kill Jounouchi with his own two hands. Or disembowel him with a kitchen knife –

Weak laughter, tinged with a hint of insanity echoed from the living room. Kaiba drew his handgun and followed it. In the room, lying on the couch, eyes closed, was Jou.

He was a mess. Blond hair lay matted, more grey than actually blond. A pile of empty beer and soda bottles rested at the foot of the couch, like corpses unceremoniously stacked before a throne. Jou's shirt was stained and ripped partway open. The sordid smell of the room floated on currents and Kaiba had the sneaking suspicion that Jou hadn't moved from that couch in days.

"He said you'd come," Jou croaked, taking a swig from a bottle in his free hand. The other lay out of sight, probably pinned awkwardly beneath his body. Even that small effort of raising the drink seemed to exhaust him.

Kaiba was disgusted. _This_ was what had killed Mokuba? How _dare_ he?

_Seto, no!_

Kaiba fingered his gun, keeping it out of eyeshot of Jou, though why he bothered when the Mutt's own eyes were closed –

_Please, brother – Seto, Seto, listen!_

Jou laughed and his whole body shook. "They've all been watching the house," he groaned when the coughing fit subsided. "They all saw you come in. They all know, rich boy. S'you fault."

_No, no, no –_

Kaiba raised his gun.

No! _Seto, _don't!

Blood blossomed from Jou's body.

_Seto… Seto, it's over. Put your gun down._

Confusion raced through Kaiba. He put his hand to the muzzle of his gun. It was cool. He hadn't shot. His eyes went to Jou's form, and he stared. The hand, the hidden one, had been holding a handgun, pressed flat against Jou's temple.

Kaiba was frozen, but only for a moment. He backed out of the room, then left, heart racing as he exited the house. Once on the street, Kaiba peered about in the darkness, but either Jou's 'watchers' were well-hidden, or they were the byproduct of a drunk and delusional mind.

With some difficulty, Kaiba gathered himself together and began the trek back to his car.

_Seto…you wouldn't have killed him, would you?_

He wasn't sure. He had meant to.

_I'll be glad then, Nii-sama, that it isn't your hands stained with blood. I'll content myself with that. I never wanted you to kill for my sake. Not once, and never again.

* * *

_

A/N: Yami and Yuugi are rather difficult creatures to portray in this because they are much different than they are in canon. That makes character consistency remarkably difficult…so please forgive any minor errors. ^^  
To my knowledge, no one ever says exactly HOW Domino is laid out. Therefore, I assumed it to be like a grid, the way many cities are. Even streets are all parallel, odd streets are all parallel, and odd/even intersect perpendicularly.  
Kaiba is the type concerned with functionality and ONLY functionality (with exception of Duel Monsters, I guess, where presentation is everything). A house is a house. All it needs are rooms, walls, doors and a few objects of furniture. The 'worthless treasures; are left over from Gozaburo's time as ruler of the house. Pieces of art and such that Kaiba was never fond of, but so now reason to destroy himself.  
I had an epiphany part way through this chapter. Yuugi is a drug. Or…LIKE a drug, rather. So, think of poor Yami as a user. Now, a drug addict needs the drug for general well-feeling. If deprived…there's withdraw. Now, Yuugi is slowly being pulled out of Yami's system. Therefore, withdraw symptoms, but ya'll know that until the poison is gone, Yami will never be 100%


	7. Interlude

**Warning: **Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).  
**Disclaimer: **YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from _Loveless_ as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.  
**Background: **Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.  
**Dedication: **To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

* * *

Interlude: Yuugi

-

-

-

_**The affection of a prince, though easily won, is notoriously hard to keep.**_

He left. I can't believe he _left_ me! After everything –

I know he doesn't remember, but _I _do, and he _can't_ do this! If he keeps running, he will destroy us both again. He won't stay though…

Why?

I should have done it when I had the chance. Kaiba has been in the way too long. When we were in Egypt, he blocked me, and now he's doing it again. I should have killed him in Egypt. I nearly managed it in _this_ life…

It was Duel Monsters Championship season. I had my chance, and I took it. Getting away from Yami for that week was hard, but eventually he let me go. It's just a good thing he wasn't there. He wouldn't have understood. _I_ barely understood. But it needed to be done.

I thought it fitting that the hired man was Egyptian. A little bit of past. I hadn't…hadn't expected Shizuka. I _told_ her what I was going to do, because she is incapable…_was_ incapable of judging anyone. She just looked at me and smiled and nodded. Maybe she wasn't listening. She always got weird when Kaiba's name came up.

I never expected her to save his life.

Thank the gods Yami wasn't there. I had Jou's sister executed, if inadverdently. Thank the gods Yami always believes me.

_"Shizuka saved my life."_

As if.

I only wish Kaiba _had_ been trying to kill me. I might have been able to rationalize spending money on his demise rather than on groceries, then. Always siphoning off a little..and even then it wasn't enough to pay Marik off. Bastard.

Yami was falling apart. There hadn't been anything I could do for him. He always _did_ like to take care of me, though. I could still give him that.

If only Jou had been of more use. Then we wouldn't have ended up _here_, and Yami wouldn't be feeling the echoes of the past. It happens whenever he and Kaiba are together. There's only so much I can do to protect Yami. I know he sees his memories. I just hope he doesn't know what they mean. He'd be so upset if he remembered.

I couldn't do that to him.

And now he won't even listen to me about Kaiba. We have to leave. Kaiba _doesn't_ like me. I wasn't lying. Yami, Yami… Why won't you _listen?_

We have to go, or you'll break yourself apart again. I remember last time.

Last time, he killed himself to save a country. What _is_ a country? Just _land._ The people could have escaped if he'd given notice. If he hadn't decided to battle. If he hadn't invited the sun god to inhabit his skin. So many ifs –

He died, and no one cared. No one except me…and now he's pushing me away for that selfish bastard that the high priest became. Yami…what did I do wrong?

XXX

Even with the door closed, I can hear Yami retching in the hallway.

I can hear him, but I can't move. It's his job to take care of me, to be the strong one between us. I can't break that. I'd lose him if I did. I'd lose him…and that can't happen.

Yami is _mine!_

I just have to find a way to remind him… Just get rid of Kaiba somehow. If Yami won't leave Kaiba, then I guess I will have to finish what I started. I have to find Marik again. Or his associate – that one living in Ryou's body…

I am decided. My legs wobble as I stand. There is no window in this room, but that hardly matters. In the time Yami has left me alone I have found the way out of every room. In the back of the closet is a gloomy staircase, made of sharp, steep stairs. I nearly fell down them when I first tried them out. I'm better now. It's the work of mere moments to go down them to the first floor.

I had to find out how far and how long. I love Yami, but sometimes he can't do what I need. At least Jou could. He's been less responsive lately, though. The last time I was at his place, he was dead drunk and raving.

He's _afraid_ of Kaiba. If he had the guts, he would run and keep running. But there's a crack in him. Kaiba found it and warped Jounouchi.

The crack was wide open. It made Jou a good partner. I suppose, though, that Kaiba has found him by now. If Jou's ranting wasn't idle fears, he's probably dead.

XXX

The kitchen is empty. This whole place is so empty. Is this what Yami wants? Emptiness and a bastard's personality? What's so attractive? I know…the two of them have done things. I saw the marks from the first time, and I knew then that I really was losing Yami. But he's gotten better at hiding, I guess.

Why is the kitchen so fucking _empty? _

I can't stand this place. It will destroy Yami. I can't leave him here. It's dark out. That's not too much of a problem. It's nearly always dark when I go to visit Jou. And there's a flashlight here somewhere too…

Might as well check on Jou. If he's still in one piece, maybe he can take the edge off this tension. And if now…maybe his corpse will convince Yami to leave Kaiba.

I'm running out of ideas.

The door opens and closes pretty quietly, and I'm outside. It's chilly. I guess I could get a jacket… Inside and out again. That's better. At least I'm warmer now. The walk to Jou's house is long. I don't know if Yami ever woke up to an empty bed and questioned it, but I doubt it. Once he's asleep, he stays asleep until morning. And even then, waking him up is difficult.

The road is mostly deserted.

There are candies in the jacket pockets. It probably was Mokuba's coat. How sick is Kaiba, that he keeps his dead brother's coat? He has issues.

I drop one candy every hundred steps. I feel like I'm in a fairy tale; the little boy who throws breadcrumbs on the way into the forest. Birds eat the breadcrumbs in that version. I wonder if anything will disturb my dropped candy bits. Probably not.

XXX

I step onto the bridge. I love this place. Some nights I don't even make it all the way to Jou's house. I just stop here, and stare up at the stars. The side of te bridge is low…just high enough to show where the edge is, not enough to prevent falling.

Down below, water swirls. I wonder if Kaiba can swim. I'd push him in. That would be as good a way as any to get rid of him. The water must be icy. For someone as freakishly thin as he is, it wouldn't take long to freeze to death. Or freeze so he can't move. Maybe the fall itself would kill him.

The world would be better off. The only thing halfway decent about the Kaiba household was Mokuba's existence, and now that that's gone…

I step up onto the bridge's side, arms out for balance. I feel like a god, standing in darkness with the rushing water below, the stars above and crisp, still night air rushing into my lungs. I step forward. Once, twice. The stones are slick. I close my eyes for the next dozen steps…then jump.

My feet land on solid ground. I turn back to the bridge and smile. Not tonight.

I turn to go –

"Yuugi!" I whirl at the sound of my name, that voice.

"Y-Yami?" What's he _doing_ here? And how –

The candy in my pocket is gone.

"Yuugi, come back here," Yami calls to me. He sets foot on my bridge. _My _bridge. He can't be here. I don't want protection now. I came here to find Jou, to be properly appreciated –

"I was so worried," he murmurs. His arms are over-warm as they envelope me in a hug. I stand there, limply, unable to muster the energy necessary to hug back, even though I know it's the right thing.

"Are you all right?" Yami asks, even as he checks me over. I wonder if he saw me leave the house. I shouldn't have stopped and gone back for the coat.

"I'm fine."

It's like he hasn't heard me. Yami keeps touching me, hugging, cradling, like I'm something precious. I know the past, Yami, and I know that I am nothing _precious._ I am your _god_, your master! And yet you refuse to listen to me.

"Get rid of Kaiba-kun."

He stares at me, then shakes his head slowly, gathering my body closer to his. "No, no, aibou. You don't mean that." My inability makes him happy. He croons to me, dismissing what I said. Whatever I say, it's the same.

"Yami," I press, pushing him back enough so I can look him in the eyes. "Yami, get rid of Kaiba-kun. For _me._ Please, Yami. He's taking you away from me."

Disbelief crosses Yami's face. It's laughable. He didn't think I knew? I know. I always know. Everything.

"You think Kaiba's…Yuugi, Yuugi, aibou, no – "

Words. I know. I forgave him before it happened. I know he can't help it. The past pulls on the present. But I won't let it keep happening. I won't let him go back to his priest.

"Yami – kill Kaiba-kun."

"What?" Yami shoves me away suddenly. Murder is no light decision. Maybe it's too much to suggest Yami kill Kaiba.

"Let _me._"

Or he'll destroy you again, Yami. Mou hitori no boku. You are mine. You _know_ you are.

He's stalling for time. He can't just agree. I know he can't, but the refusal to admit the truth hurts all the same. I want him to see this with me now. He would understand, if he knew, I think, but it's too much for him. I can't…

I should, but I can't. I can't stand to hurt Yami.

"Let me kill Kaiba-kun," I beg. Yami looks disgusted. I hit him. He looks shocked, but I did get his attention. His _real_ attention.

Not this fake smile he puts on, like he's listening when I know really, he isn't. The façade is gone. He sees _me_ now. Maybe for the first time.

We've lived together for years. He used to _be_ me…and _this_ is the first time he's actually _seen_ me?

I can't help it. I hit him again. But he catches my wrist so I don't. He tries to hug me. I won't let him.

Again he tries. I scream in his face, then laugh, and step backwards, away. "Kill Kaiba-kun!" yell at him. Tears are on my face. I always cry when he's around. I can't seem to help it. "Kill him, Yami!"

"Aibou – "

"Mou hitori no _boku_," I sneer back. "_Kill_him."

"No!" Yami screams back.

I have to laugh. If I'd know this is what it takes, I would have done it ages ago. Fire burns in his eyes. That fire died when he stopped dueling. And it only really burned like this when he was facing down Kaiba. Now it burns for _me._ And only me.

He is _mine._

I laugh again, or maybe I never stopped. Yami's eyes are glowing angrily. I scream some more, and order him to get rid of – no…_destroy _Kaiba.

And then it happens.

Yami's calmness snaps. He's alive again. Maybe it has something to do with the little pieces of memory that have slipped through. Violence was in all of them.

His hand rests on my chest, and his eyes are on mine. There is no sanity in him. I remember that look from _our_ first time. Our _real_ first time. My body welcomes it. He will pull me close and –

I stumble back.

Yami is farther away, and his eyes are no longer perfect. He is lunging forward, and his hand reaches for me.

Falling…

Takes forever.

And then it's cold.

So cold.

I'm…so –

-

-

-

Author's Notes:  
Yuugi – So, Yuugi's personality skips just about everywhere, and he's contradicting himself all over. That's mostly on purpose. He's got screw loose. Bahen's theory is that killing himself in The Claiming Rite addled his brains. I tend toward the idea that knowing EVERYthing, considering himself a pseudo-god and experiencing separation anxiety/fear fucked him up. Either way…he's not right. And I hope this answers most of the questions and ties up a few other loose ends.


	8. Chilled

**Warning: **Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).  
**Disclaimer: **YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from _Loveless_ as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.  
**Background: **Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.  
**Dedication: **To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

* * *

Chapter 8: Chilled

-

-

-

_One day, suddenly, when you least expect it…the course of your life is dramatically changed. You never think it could happen to you. Just when you decide to stop looking you meet someone._

_I'll admit I'm weak. All this time, I've been avoiding the truth. I wanted to forget. But I remember everything. The things I learned from you. The things that happened that day. But most of all I wanted to forget…the you living within my memories._

XXX

He saw red, and the fierce anger, that demonic hunger that seized him in the strangest times, the anger that brought the visions –

The visions were there now. He fell to his knees, cradling his head in his hands. The visions –

_"I am searching for the partner of my Claiming Rite."_

_"I'd rather have you guarding my secrets." A flash of blue._

_"You will be my greatest friend for as long as you live – " Eyes, and a face, grim._

_"What fear is a hearth fire when the city is aflame?" White robes, and the smell of incense. _

_"I asked Isis – "_

_I want you._

_" – to ensure I would see you –"_

_I always wanted…_

_" – again."_

_Dark eyes._

_"Sometimes it takes a mirror to see reflected pain."_

_"In some new life we – "_

_We. Not you and me. We._

_" – a real chance."_

Pain.

XXX

Yami's knees burned. They were scraped even through his pants, and warm blood gathered from the open wounds. He lurched to his feet.

Bright light appeared, lighting the way down the bank to the river. He saw the pale shape of Yuugi, caught – holding onto – a branch or a rock. Yami threw himself into the frigid water.

Mountain run-off, one corner of his mind murmured knowledgeably. No wonder it was so chill. Mountains… where snow lurked, even in the summers. He swam, fighting the current to reach Yuugi.

Yami reached the white, pale form in the middle of the rushing water. He was aware of the roar of a car engine, dim in the back of his mind. Then his heart's beating was too loud again, and his breathing. The roar of the river.

He reached the rock and grabbed on, wrapping an arm around Yuugi's body. The smaller male flopped about strangely, bonelessly. Yami tried to push against the current.

A dark figure was coming down, outlined by the car headlights.

"Yami!" He stood on the banks, a damning shadow in an already too-dark world. "Let him go!"

"No!" The water was beginning to numb fingers, legs, lungs.

"Yami, listen to me – would he have wanted you to die for him?"

"Yes!" Yami screamed back without thinking as the dead weight slipped from fingers that couldn't feel.

"Yuugi!"

_The heartbroken keening of a dying creature, or the sound a soul makes when it first breaks. The heartbroken noise that echoes through time when a soul becomes one again. That's what you're hearing, Seto._

XXX

Yami was unaware of his body. He felt tired. Faces kept breaking into his vision. He saw them, and struggled for words he couldn't speak as water, icy water, flooded lungs he could have sworn had gone numb.

In the middle of an ocean of ice, there was fire. Something heated, though distant.

He thought nothing of it. He was gone.

XXX

Kaiba had shucked off his jacket the moment he saw Yami go under. Maybe there was reason to be thankful for lessons. He'd learned to make full use of his lanky frame in the water. Less time to freeze. Jumping in knocked the wind out of him.

With swift, sure strokes, he went to Yami. The current made travel difficult, but that was where the practical application of physics came in. Upstream, then in, then Yami, then further downstream where Kaiba dragged first himself, then the unresponsive King of Games from the black water. He couldn't see Yuugi's body. Either it had washed up somewhere or water-filled lungs had weighted the corpse enough for it to sink.

Kaiba left speculation for when he could be sure both of them were going to live. Water dripped from Yami's mouth and nose. Kaiba tried to recall if the other male's head had gone under on the swim back. He couldn't remember. The time in the water seemed frozen, as if the sheer chill of the water itself had paused life until he and Yami had freed themselves from its grasp. Kaiba tried to stand. His teeth were chattering.

Numb legs refused to obey. Kaiba stumbled and fell on Yami. Water poured out of the young man's nose and mouth. Then Yami's entire body shuddered, and convulsed, as a shaking, rattling breath entered his lungs. Kaiba hadn't noticed he wasn't breathing. Maybe he would have cared if he could feel his own body.

Everything was cold. So very cold.

To think after everything… Gozaburo, Pegasus, Shizuka, Jounouchi –

_Mokuba._

That this was the end of it. He might have laughed, if he had had the energy to do so. Instead, he just lay there, shivering, his body pressed against Yami's.

When Gozaburo's punishments had gotten too hard, Kaiba had always withdrawn into himself to weather the storm. A little crumb of ca conscious mind inside fragile walls. He could do anything in that state. Nothing else existed.

But he still couldn't move.

Cold was not punishment. It was poison, seeping in, suffocating. His mind knew what he wanted to do, but it couldn't make his body obey.

Then, after everything, perhaps this really was the end.

_I said I'd watch over you. Brother, I am here now. With you. I've always been here, Seto. You've always saved me. Now it's my turn. Shh – Hush brother. I'm here for you._

XXX

Kaiba knew he was dying, or dead already. He supposed he should be more regretful, but the energy to feel emotions just wasn't there.

_Seto, look at me._

He tilted his head up. He was dreaming as he died.

_No, no you're not._

Pearlescent, translucent, pale and silvery and not quite solid around the edges –

"Mokuba," Kaiba breathed.

_I'm here, Seto. I've always been here. I will always be with you. But brother, let me give you what I can. Let me help you._

The shining figure – if Kaiba had been even slightly religious, he might have dubbed the vision of his brother an 'angel' in spite of the ripped jeans and long sleeved shirt – knelt beside the two of them . An outstretched hand came to rest on Yami's shoulder, and one brushed against Kaiba's cheek. He couldn't meet those ghostly eyes. There was no iris, no pupil, just eyes like the sky at midnight, twinkling with stars.

The hand left a trail of warmth in its wake, then moved to Kaiba's chest, and Mokuba smiled softly.

_I always loved you, Seto. Thank you, for everything._

Kaiba jolted as the warmth of life flooded into his body. His eyes must have closed, as though he were staring into a bonfire – and when they opened, it was still dark out, and Yami was still by him, shivering. But he could move.

"Mokuba!"

Something that felt like an apology echoed on the breeze. Kaiba shook his head fighting back tears. Tears… He gathered up Yami's unresponsive body and stumbled up the embankment. His car's headlights were still glaringly bright.

_I must have been hallucinating. _

It didn't take too long to get Yami in the passenger's side and strapped in. It took more time or Kaiba to force his body around, into the driver's seat and to get his still-chilled fingers to respond to the commands his mind issued. At least once he was moving, it was easier to stay in motion.

The car stuttered forward, and then rolled away. Kaiba closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. The car rumbled quietly on the way home. Kaiba declined to think. Thinking was too much for now. All he needed was to be warm again.

XXX

They were in the house, second floor in the guest room nearest the stairs. Not Yami's old room. Kaiba blinked, trying to recall exactly when they had gotten here.

"K-Kaiba?" that was Yami, and the first word the Game King had spoken. He looked nearly a ghost himself, skin so pale as to be nearly see through. His lips were a strange shade of blue-purple. In leather, he could have passed as a rocker wearing black lipstick. But that was no lipstick.

Kaiba became aware that the implied question necessitated an answer. He shook his head, completely unable to think of one. There was silence, then Kaiba pushed Yami forward, in the direction of the bed. The touch of skin brushing against skin – bone-chilled skin. Ice seemed to have settled into Yami. The unnatural chill made Kaiba shiver. He felt frozen himself, if just from that brief touch. The air felt like fire against a too-cold palm.

_He won't make it through the night if he doesn't warm up. _The ideal solution was to have another living creature take up residence with the hyper chilled Game King, at least for the night. Kaiba wasn't the kind to keep pets though. Not four-legged ones, anyway.

Trying to warm Yami up with a hot – or even middling – shower could send him into shock from too extreme a temperature change. Kaiba's shower at its coldest was a hundred times warmer than Yami.

And from the look of it, Yami was about asleep on his feet. He stumbled, even from the small shove and his eyes were less alert with every passing second.

Kaiba scowled. Unbidden came the though, _I fucked him before. May as well sleep with him._ Not quite angrily, he pulled off his outer coat and left it on the floor before going to Yami who had collapsed, only partly on the bed.

"Strip," Kaiba ordered roughly. Yami only gave him a blank, not-there look. Kaiba sighed and began to peel Yami's garments off as impersonally as if he were peeling a banana. Or an onion. Yami wasn't even shivering anymore, though his skin was still much too cold. He made small sounds of protest which Kaiba steadfastly ignored.

With the Game King bare, Kaiba Yanked down one corner of the blankets and nudged Yami. He fell onto the bed and Kaiba immediately re-draped the covers. Then, before he could make himself reconsider, Kaiba stripped down as well, throwing all his wet clothing into a pile. The air was chill, though not nearly as cold as the water had been, or as cold as Yami was.

He climbed into bed.

Yami finally said something. Or stuttered, more accurately.

"B-b-b-but – "

"It doesn't matter," Kaiba snapped. "We're both frozen, and might catch something if we don't warm up. Shared body heat is the best way. Lay back-to-back if that's easier for you. I'm not letting _your_ idiotic actions make _me _sick."

Yami was quiet then. Kaiba flipped onto his side, facing away. Cold seemed to radiate from Yami's half of the bed.

The tense silence _felt_ like Yami wanted to say something else. Kaiba shut his eyes and stubbornly ignored it. The light in the room was still on, but he was too tired to consider getting up to turn it off.

A sigh escaped Yami. Kaiba just lay there, listening to the breathing and the sound of heartbeats…much too loud. He was nearly asleep when freezing skin pressed against his back. Kaiba bit his lip to stop the gasp that threatened to escape. Yami's breathing was deep and even. He was asleep. Kaiba concentrated on not shivering. He didn't' want to wake Yami by accident. The cynical part of him demanded to know when he started caring.

Kaiba closed his eyes and forced his body to relax. Slowly chill began to ebb out of him, and his eyes began to see things that didn't' exist in the real world. Visions. Places.

Dreams.

_I bet no one in class has ever done this. How does that make you feel? Like something good? Or something tainted?_

XXX

The city was on fire, but only in the distance, in the future. The present was perfection. Painful, slick, filled with deceit from both sides.

---

_"Don't go."_

_"I don't want to cause you any more pain." Hands came for him then, to spite the words. One to his shoulder, and his tunic began to smoke gently, until it had burned away and the fire-in-skin rested against his own flesh. He heard the ragged breathing: his own, and..._his_, out of fear, compassion, shared agony._

_Don't _touch_ me, rested on his lips, yet he dared not speak the words for the rejection and the price of loss. He could not bear to be parted. Not now. Not when everything in the world was crumbling down in a wall of fire._

_---_

_The city was on fire, but it wasn't near enough to make a difference in the stables. On a horse, dressed in leather armor was the leader of the army, the country. And then there was him, standing on the floor, staring up in open fear for what the next hours might bring._

_"Tell me again – why exactly do _you_ have to lead this charge?"_

_"I've got the fastest mount, the surest aim and a weapon no one will be expecting. Why _shouldn't_ I lead?"_

_"Just remember, that creature takes no prisoners."_

_"Do you forget Ra –"_

_"If you get yourself killed – "_

_" – won't do anything – "_

_" – not good enough – "_

_"I promise. I'll come back."_

_He was standing on a balcony, watching the city burn. IT was truly on fire, actually glowing in the non-light of the hour. No moon, a new moon. Even the stars seemed to have taken shelter. The fires had begun about an hour ago. Just an hour. What use was time when _he_ had been gone for that time? Somewhere along that time, he'd felt someone else, but like a gnat's presence, the interruption was miniscule. Almost forgivable. _

_---_

_He stood on the balcony and watched the city burning. There were screams, or there must have been, but he could not hear them. Instead, his mind was filled with memories and different sounds. Breathing, a heartbeat just out of synch with his own. Beautiful eyes, the color of the flames in the city, if a darker hue. Those eyes haunted him. Hunted him. There was power in that gaze, and intense desire. But more than that, more than needing someone in body, was the need for a soul and all the difficulties that came with that particular search._

_In the distance, a huge grey-purple shape loomed. If it hadn't been moving, he would have assumed it was nothing but a cloud of smoke. It had the same color, the same texture, but moved. A creature, then. That terrible being that _he_ had gone out to fight…_

_---_

_You could be killed._

_It's been so long. Do you honestly think death frightens me anymore? At least I might do something good this time._

_I don't – _

_What? Don't want me to die? Believe me, I don't want to either. Some things just happen, though. Whatever happens, I swear I'll find you, whether in this lie or the next._

_Don't make promises you can't keep._

_But I _will –

_It's time for you to go. _

_Se –_

_Go._

_---_

_Had he really sent him away so coldly, so callously? 'Go' and nothing more. No explanation, no emotion, just a command and they parted ways as his prince rode away on a hose, head held high. He watched his price ride, and caught the slight hesitation at the gate, as though he were about to turn, to look back…and never did._

_---_

_The city was burning: a small model, carefully crafted in the image of Egypt as it once had been, before the Final Rites of their late prince. The city was on fire, and burning as he watched it smolder. In hours, hours, and hours, the carving, which had taken months for artisans to create – was gone. Mere ash, spread across the altar of the sun god. _

_He whispered prayers, and said the Final Rites again. Yet again. He knew them by heart after months of visiting, months of repeating, day after day after day, always a something burned to dust, as his prince had burned, and had taken the Lord of Darkness with him. _

_The people knew the sacrifice their ruler had made. They understood the solemnity, and the desperation. For the first month, the city had cried with him, and each day the altar of Ra lay filled to overflowing with ashes as each man and woman displayed his or her dedication. But long though memory might have been, the patience of people wears thin quickly. By the end of the month of mourning, he made his sacrifices alone._

_No longer did priests and acolytes scuttle about, sweeping extra ash from the floor. It was as it had once been: just the two of them, and a god as witness. _

_His prince had wanted once to do the Rite here. To be claimed beneath the stares of the gods' effigies, as tribute to passion. He never knew if his prince's wish had ever been fulfilled, indeed, never knew even if his prince had spoken such wishes aloud to the one who had become his partner._

_Months and months. The chief builders asked four years to build a resting place worthy of his prince. Four years with no rest or delay. He granted it; what else could he do? The most magnificent of the pyramids at Gaza had taken upwards of a decade! Four years for a wandering soul…_

_His hands rested on the altar, amidst the ashes and glowing, smoking coals. One burned his skin. He closed his eyes, remembering the man whose touch could have killed. Loved by the gods? Or hated? Tormented into throwing his life away? There were so many questions he had for his prince, and answers he knew he would never have. But still…human curiosity. He could not help but wonder._

_A door opened – closed? – and he turned, drawing his hand from the ashes, one of the glowing coals dropping to the floor. He put his sandal over the red, smothering it. An acolyte bowed into the room, went through the motions of cleaning the already clean floor and then bowed back out._

_He waited until the acolyte had gone before turning back to the altar. He said the Final Rites again, hurriedly. In a whisper, as if assuring himself they had been said. And then he bowed before Ra, the emblem of his prince – _

**_Have you forgotten that Ra lives within my skin?_**

_- and left the temple, feeling heavier than when he had entered._

_Priests lied. He _was_ one, so he had known that, but the most important part… Confessions and rites freed one's mind, one's soul? If anything, he was more tied to his prince now than when they had both been alive._

**_One day I will find you. We will be together again._**_ His prince had promised. **Isis said – **_

_Not Isis, but _Isis_, lover of Osiris. If anyone would know anything about finding someone, the goddess would. She had reconstructed her lover after Set had torn him to pieces. Isis knew. Isis approved._

_So all he had to do was trust…and wait._

_The waiting was the hardest part. _

_---_

_The streets were drowning in people. Hundreds, thousands – all of Egypt had come and even some from neighboring countries with family who lived in Egypt. They came for the man they called as one of their God-King. Everyone knew the story. Everyone knew how their prince had taken up a pact with the Sun and the two of them had destroyed the Lord of Darkness. Then Ra had lifted the prince into the Heavens to make him a god as well. Back on earth was left his perfect shell, dressed only in leather armor._

_The story and the truth… So far away. Worlds apart. Five years later – not four – and now he was burying the remains of his prince. Common knowledge claimed that the prince had been embalmed by the gods before he was taken up. False, of course, but the people held to their petty truths as though there were no other version. Even eyewitnesses swore Ra himself had come, appeared out of thin air, to take their prince up in a blaze of glory._

_If only._

_He watched the masses. The alter of the Sun god again overflowed with incense and burned offerings. The people parted as the wagon bearing their God-King's casket passed down the street, drawn by a matched set of black oxen. There were shouts and prayers. The people threw themselves to their knees, begging their dead leader to bless their country, to bless their sons, their daughters, their lives._

_Through it all, he watched, walking along side the wagon, disguised as a priest. Not a high priest, but just a priest. A young man, doing his duties, simply walking, watching –_

_A hand gripped his arm and he stopped. An old woman clung to him._

_"Is he dead? Is he dead?"_

_He nodded, and pulled away as the woman's wailing filled the streets. Heartbroken, but when he looked for her again, she was gone, leaving only the sounds of her cries in her wake._

_---_

_The tomb waited for them. The procession went in, despite the oxen baulking, and having to be led. They knew the smell of death unlike any others.__ With their handlers pulling them in, however, the oxen went, though their nostrils flared at the scent of old rocks and the sacrifices the priests had already made in the entryways._

_There was a chill inside, the cold of stones which had not seen the light of the sun for half a decade. The rocks were waiting. The oxen were waiting. The priests, the people, the very sands of Egypt herself were waiting for her God-King to be put to his final rest._

_The carriage and coffin ground to a halt inside. Wide eyed, the two oxen stood, staring about in the torch-illuminated hall. There was a dead end before them, a vaulted ceiling above, and chambers, awaiting the final touches of the prince's story before the pyramid would close entirely. Then, and only then, would the once-ruler of Egypt finally rest, entombed._

_The oxen lowed, their cries echoing strangely amid the stone walls. Then their sounds were cut off by a low gurgle, and two dull thuds as the creatures fell to their knees, throats slashed and blood gushing out onto the floor._

_He watched dispassionately. Everyone began to withdraw from the room. He stayed behind, and touched the coffin, rested his hand on the cold golden surface._

_"A--"_

_"Pharaoh." The voice called for him, and he looked up. "My king, you mustn't linger. They are closing the chamber shortly."_

_Even now, he couldn't steal a few moments alone with his prince. Silent, he nodded, and followed the chief of his guards out of the main tomb, only to turn and watch the final barrier drop into place. Only death between them. Death, and a few tons of stone._

_---_

_The decoration of the story wall began within the week. The story of the God-King's birth, changed from the original, embellished out of recognition. The son of Ra, raised by a mortal mother, brought up by the god himself in secret. Apparently their young God-King also rescued small animals, brought the dead back to life and spoke with the heavens._

_More bashing about than the tip of a rattlesnake's tail. Yet, if those were the stories he people wanted about their ruler, then those were the stories they would have._

_He combed through every inch of the halls, watching the tributes rise. Then, one wall, and a pair of workers. What he saw filled him with pain. He watched as they worked, until the day they were done. Then he came from the shadows._

_"M-m-my Pharaoh!" the one exclaimed._

_He said nothing in reply, just examined the bas relief. A picture of himself, across from his prince, their hands extended, nearly touching. The prince's double rested between them, his hands out, holding them apart. Never to touch._

_"May I see that?" he questioned of the second artist, pointing at the chisel the man held._

_Slowly, shakily, the man extended the object. "This is a beautiful tool," he commented tithe artist, bouncing it slightly in his hand. Then, he drove its point into the stone between his hand and his prince's._

_The stone cracked, and a chip of rock dropped away. "Smooth that out, and leave it at that," he said._

_In his rooms, alone, he watched the ceiling. His rooms had changed when he had become Pharaoh. Not the same rooms as his prince had had, but across the palace, in a mirror hallway._

_Not in the same rooms as his prince had had, but across the palace, in a mirror hallway. The room appeared backward to his senses, the way one half of the palace echoed the other, and once one was accustomed to one side of the palace, navigating the other drew on a sense of having been before. Navigating backwards._

_The ceiling glowed, marked with constellations. With stars. He stared up at them as they began to move, to morph, reforming into faces, people and places –_

_Not in the same rooms as his prince had had, but across the palace, in a mirror hallway. The room appeared backward to his senses, the way one half of the palace echoed the other, and once one was accustomed to one side of the palace, navigating the other drew on a sense of having been before. Navigating backwards._

_The ceiling glowed, marked with constellations. With stars. He stared up at them as they began to move, to morph, reforming into faces, people and places –_

XXX

Kaiba awoke, feeling his eyes wrenched open by his dream self, trying to see something just beyond reach. His pulse was not racing. It was no nightmare that he had woken from, but a memory, one of his memories… Whatever that man had been. He had heard a name before, but never recalled. Now the names eluded him entirely. Priest. Pharaoh. God-King. Prince. Only titles to know those people by. So who had they been? Or was it just the product of an over active imagination?

Beside him, Yami stirred. Kaiba's breath caught in his throat as he watched his rival. Yami looked so vulnerable, so weak. Kaiba stretched out a hand to rest against the other's cheek briefly before drawing back when Yami's eyes fluttered, showing he was waking.

"K-Kaiba?" Yami sounded lost. Kaiba didn't blame him. The two of them stared at one another, for what felt like an age. Then Kaiba rolled out of bed and went hunting for clothing in the spare closet. The wet clothing they'd left on the floor last night remained, wet and messy. Nothing worth salvaging.

"Yeah," Kaiba answered, tossing a pair of boxers and a long shirt onto the bed. "Get dressed." The gentleness of his words confused him. He remembered another time, the same set of orders and a totally different demeanor.

Yami obeyed, though his movements were stiff and jerking as though he were still frozen. Kaiba watched, his arms folded, not liking the uncertainty and hesitation. When he finally stepped forward, it was to catch Yami. The young man was still cold. Nearly as frozen as he had been the night before.

_But in my dream he was on fire –_ Kaiba growled and cut off that train of thought. A dream. A memory if he felt like being generous. But someone else's memory. Another man's dream. Someone long ago. The emotions weren't the same. The times were different. Things weren't…the same. Not even close.

"You're cold," Kaiba said, righting Yami and pulling the shirt around the other's shoulders before he buttoned it. "Too cold," Kaiba added. "You're probably getting sick.

No answer. Yami was just watching him, eyes wary. Kaiba met that gaze, not in challenge but because he had to. There was no other explanation. He _had_ to meet Yami's gaze. So he did, and he waited until the silence had stretched before he looked away. It was as much an apology as he could offer, conceding defeat of his own accord.

_Two souls, split apart and reworked, too many times to count. The error of love, of lust, of faith and friendship and belief._

XXX

The moment passed. Kaiba moved away from Yami. Yami lurched towards the wall and leaned against it, his hands balled up into gentle fists. "I'm not," he whispered, but in the silence the words felt as though they had been shouted.

"Not what?" Kaiba muttered. "Not cold? Not sick?"

Yami's eyes opened, and Kaiba met them again, but instead of crimson irises, he saw a city ablaze, smoking in the distance, and heard the high shrieks of loss and grief.

"Not home," Yami said, closing his eyes again. The fires were gone, and Kaiba blinked as he came back to reality, to the present. "I'm not…" He seemed to be struggling for words. "Not _there._" He gestured and Kaiba took that as a time to give Yami space.

"I'll be downstairs," Kaiba said. He stepped away from Yami, figuring that the other duelist would be a little more relaxed if he left. Instead, Yami took a step forward.

"You – _can't,_ no…" The words seemed twisted, almost forced.

"Yami, what's wrong?"

Yami held his head. "Memories," he whispered. "The memories." Kaiba hesitated, not sure how he was supposed to respond to that. Memories – he had had the memories as well. He knew what Yami meant. His memories hadn't hurt though. Maybe recalling a past he didn't believe in was odd, strange – but not physically painful.

"It's all there," Yami whispered. "The city, the sky – " Yami's eyes opened, and Kaiba saw the fear in them, the guilt. He read sorrow, and hope and pain. Mostly pain.

"You promised – "

But what he might have promised never left Yami's lips. The young man fell to his knees, shivering. Kaiba knelt and put a hand on Yami's shoulder. He was still cold. "That's it, you need to go to the hospital," Kaiba muttered, hoisting Yami in his arms. "You're going to kill yourself like this."

By the time they had reached the hospital, Kaiba's hand was numb from resting on Yami. That kind of unnatural chill… By all rights, Yami shouldn't have been moving, breathing. The glacial chill was unnerving.

XXX

Kaiba waited in the waiting room, but he did not sit quietly or patiently. He had no patience. He annoyed the staff, demanding to have updates on Yami, no matter if the person in question knew anything about the duelist at all.

The lobby filled and emptied. Children, adults – broken bones, car accidents, burns and lacerations. Kaiba saw none of them.

He spoke only four words – "Yami – how is he?"

Hours passed, or it might have been days. Kaiba slept when his body refused to remain awake, ate if there was something to eat, and made infrequent trips to the water fountain in the hall.

And then his waiting broke. A doctor came for him. "Are you the one who brought him in?"

Silent, Kaiba nodded.

"You any relation of his?"

An impossible reply came to mind, but instead of explaining three thousand years, a bit of magic and whatever other details might muddy the water, he resorted to a lie. "His boyfriend."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "And his family?"

"Dead. He lives with me. We're the closest thing to family we've got." As he said it, he realized it was true. Without Mokuba… Without Yuugi… They only had each other, as a faded reminder of better days.

The doctor pursed his lips. "I see. Well, usually it's family only – "

Kaiba frowned.

" – but if you can verify that you're his only – "

"Show me where he is so I can see him," Kaiba said, each word hard. "Or if you're too hard-assed to do _that,_ tell me where he is and I'll find him myself." Either Kaiba's presence was imposing enough or the doctor really wasn't all that concerned about policy.

"Come with me," he said. "We aren't sure if he's going to make it."

Kaiba gnawed on those words, worried them to death in his mind, like a terrier with a rag. _He might not make it._

When had Yami become important? Then they were at the room, and Kaiba's questions melted away. Yami lay there, on his side, curled up, shaking, even with the objects of warmth arrayed around him. The room was easily 100 degrees.

"If it's a fever, it's nothing we've seen before," the doctor said softly. "He's been colder than ice since he got here. If it keeps up, his body systems are going to shut down on him, and he'll die." The verdict was so flat, so…uncaring that Kaiba stared at the doctor.

"You can't do _anything?" _he demanded.

"There are no medicines to cure hypothermia," the doctor shot back. "He needs warmth, and we brought him up gently on it, but he is still much too cold. Even going into shock from overexposure would be an improvement." The doctor glanced at Yami. "I'd give him another twenty-for hours if nothing changes." He coughed. "Can you behave if I leave you two alone?"

Flipping the doctor off probably wasn't the best thing Kaiba could have done, but the man did leave them alone. For a long time, Kaiba stared at Yami from the other side of the room. He was sweating in his trench coat. After he was soaked, Kaiba finally took it off and put the coat on the floor. Yami had changed sides and was still shivering.

"Yami, are you awake?"

No reply. Kaiba crossed the room in three purposeful strides, but dithered beside the bed, not sure if he should touch Yami or not.

Finally he did, setting a hand on the sleeping duelist's shoulder. Yami was icy to the touch, colder perhaps than when Kaiba had first brought him here.

"Kaiba?" Yami's voice was groggy, as though he had just been roused from a deep sleep. The circles under Yami's eyes spoke a different tale – insomnia, aggressively sleepless nights.

"It's me," Kaiba answered, not quite sure how to respond. He wondered if there were cameras in the room to monitor Yami and guests.

"What did he say?"

"Who?"

Yami twitched. Kaiba assumed that in a normal person, that would have been a gesture of sorts. "The doctor." Yami's voice was soft, hoarse.

Kaiba saw little reason to sugar coat the truth. "He said you have about twenty four hours to live if you don't warm up soon," the brunet said bluntly.

Yami shook his head and Kaiba realized he hadn't opened his eyes. "He's wrong," Yami said. "M'not fine, but I've got longer than that."

"You're in denial." Kaiba tried to be gentle. It was hard.

"_No_," Yami answered, as forceful as Kaiba had ever heard him. "Isis – "

Isis. Kaiba stepped back as though he'd been hit. Two images came to mind, super imposed over one another. A woman, dressed in flowing white robes. Then there was a woman with braids, dark eyes and a permanent frown. The faces, the times, overlapped. "Isis," Kaiba repeated.

Yami nodded, seeming to bleed into his sheets as though the white was bleaching the color from him. "Isis said this would happen. I remember her."

Kaiba highly doubted that the Isis he knew in person had been in this room. It had to have been memory then, cropping up with the express intent of annoying him. "What did Isis say?" Kaiba demanded.

But Yami just shook his head, seeming infinitely dazed. "That was all she said," he murmured. "That…that was all."

Kaiba couldn't find it in himself to question further.

Companionable silence passed the time until the doctor returned. A few times, Kaiba nearly broke it with words, but one glance at Yami, shivering, so white the sheets looked almost yellow in comparison, was enough to make him close his mouth.

XXX

"You said he only has twenty-four hours." Kaiba had to work not to sound accusing. "He disagrees."

The doctor raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. His meaning was clear: did Kaiba take the word of the patient over the certified professional?

"What will you do when he's still here, a week from now, shivering and so cold that water freezes when it touches his skin?" Kaiba challenged. "If he doesn't die of cold, he'll die of thirst. What are _you_ going to do to stop that?"

The doctor shook his head. Perhaps he thought Kaiba an over reactive boyfriend. "If it comes to that, we'll deal with it."

"Not 'if,'" Kaiba corrected. "When." Then he walked out, leaving behind the doctor and Yami. Kaiba wanted answers to questions. Questions about the past, questions dealing with the present, questions whose answers could shape the future.


End file.
